


A Silent, Creeping Thing

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Abrupt Ending, Angst and Tragedy, Ending With Expectation of Future Sadness, F/M, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 07:53:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11664828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: Because writing one story about Obi-Wan in love with a man who does not love him in return wasn't enough for me?One of the differences being that this Obi-Wan doesn't die within this story, but it's presumed he does outside of it. Please only click on this if it'll make your day better. <3





	A Silent, Creeping Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Courtesy Notice for Padmé Fans: This story villainizes her.

 

When people laughed at melodramatic stories and mocked  _ tragic love,  _ Obi-Wan Kenobi always smiled politely and nodded.

Anakin cringed and wanted to throw up.

Obi-Wan already felt inferior enough to take down a city-full of arrogant men.

_ Isn't it bad enough he's dying, without having to find himself mocked too? _

But Obi-Wan would never say anything, would never let on.

And Anakin walked beside him and felt his own heart breaking as he saw flesh melt away from bones, hollows deepening below the eyes, the way his breath labored after the smallest exertion.

Was there anything worse than watching someone you loved dying by inches and knowing you were responsible?

Sometimes, Anakin asked himself what life might have been like if Padmé hadn't been part of it.  _ Could I have found happiness with him? _

Perhaps Obi-Wan would never have been afflicted with the wasting disease that would murder him.

That sort of speculation never left Anakin in a good place. He loved Padmé with all his heart, and while he loved Obi-Wan desperately, it wasn't romantic in the slightest.

It wouldn't save him.

Walking beside him, Obi-Wan faltered, expression going taut, lungs struggling.

Anakin helped lower him to a nearby bench, sitting beside him, heart bleeding.

“How badly does it hurt?”

“Seven,” Obi-Wan whispered.

The one-to-ten scale had allowed Anakin to know, if not feel, the weight that was dragging Obi-Wan to the bottom of the ocean, ever farther from light, and warmth, and oxygen.

He was never pain-free now. Not even while sleeping. Pain invaded even his dreams.

Obi-Wan had assured him multiple times that anything less than a four wasn't worth mentioning.

Anakin would always ask anyway.

Obi-Wan, feeling he was complaining, answered truthfully each time with only a number.

And felt ashamed for his whining.

 

* * *

 

Padmé was subdued near him. Barely able to bring herself to look at him, her voice hushed when she spoke.

The pall of a death not her own hung heavy over her.

When Anakin left their side for a moment to attend to the Chancellor, Obi-Wan spoke up. “It's alright, Senator.”

“What is?”

“I do not begrudge you  _ him. _ ”

Padmé's eyes filled with tears as they snapped up to meet his gaze. “I do.”

Obi-Wan bowed. “Not all are raised to view other people as not their property. It's alright. I swear I am not working against you. I want him happy.”

“So do  _ I, _ ” she growled.

“Of course.”  _ She used to be my friend too, before this came to light. _

And now he was nothing more than a rival. Force forbid two individuals love the same man and still care for one another.

There were some days when he wished the principles of the Order had spread farther than just the Jedi.

He turned to leave her in peace, when she muttered, “You're  _ dying  _ for him. How am I supposed to compete with that?”

Obi-Wan felt kicked in the gut. “I'm not sure for what I'm supposed to apologize,” he said slowly.

Her gaze darted away, guilty.

“I swear I'm not trying to take him away from you.” Obi-Wan spread his hands in helplessness.

She scowled. “I  _ know.  _ But he's watching you die by inches, he's with you  _ all  _ the time, and Anakin Skywalker never sees what he  _ has.  _ Only what could be lost. You've become the thing that's going to be taken away from him, so he's obsessing over you, and nothing else matters.”

“I promise you won't have that problem long,” Obi-Wan murmured, feeling stung.

“You dying isn't going to fix it,” Padmé muttered. “He's going lose himself in his grand failure to keep Death from taking his belongings. I'll be as good as Anakinless before five months are out.”

Obi-Wan was silent for a long moment as he simply watched her face. He could read the misery behind the anger. “I am sorry if we can no longer be friends. I've lost a great many of them recently.”

“You'll be rejoined with them soon enough.”

Obi-Wan bowed his head in her direction again, turned on his heel, and hurried away.

He managed to reach the hallway before his legs gave out, dumping him unceremoniously to his knees as he coughed, his lungs twisting, burdened—

Politicians made startled noises as they passed, giving him a wide berth, but none of them made a move to help.

And then a warm hand was against his back, and an aged voice demanded, “Call this man some help! That's it, Master Kenobi, help will be here soon.”

Obi-Wan appreciated the hand making gentle circles against his back, even if that couldn't alleviate, couldn't save him.

But it was kind.

And then there were petals on the floor and the spectators gasping—

“Oh, dear,” the owner of the hand exclaimed, voice quiet.

Obi-Wan dragged the back of his hand against his lip, blood tracing the movement.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Master Kenobi, though I'm terribly sorry to see you suffering so greatly,” soothed Palpatine.

 

 

 


End file.
